


Steel Magnolia

by Lady10



Category: CSI: Miami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady10/pseuds/Lady10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Calleigh's behavior at a crime scene is off, the CSI's look into what made her behave the way she had with a surprising result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steel Magnolia  
                                                    Chapter 1

   
   
   
   
The house had been nearly burnt to the ground. Even thought the fire department had declared the building safe for the CSI team to enter, they still kept a watchful eye on the ruins of the single family home. It was an early Saturday afternoon, the sun shining; a perfect South Florida autumn day. Perfect if you normally had Saturdays off, which Calleigh Duquesne normally did; her earlier morning activity not affected.

   
With a sigh of annoyance Calleigh tugged on a large piece of siding that she had been examining. There was a distinct pour pattern from accelerant across it. Unfortunately, it was also partially buried under a  huge pile of rubble from when the home collapsed. She tugged on the siding with all of her strength and it slid toward her before catching on something unseen beneath the rubble, the sudden lack of motion nearly dumping her on her rear end. She shifted her grip and pulled again, digging her heels into the pliant ground. It refused to move. She pulled again and again until she could feel the strain in her already aching shoulders and back. With a resigned huff of air she looked around for a little muscle  
.  
   
“Hey Eric, can you give me a hand? My evidence is stuck,” she asked.

   
Eric trotted over, camera in hand. “Yeah, sure. What's stuck?”

 

She gestured to the charred siding. “This section of siding. See the pour pattern? It's charred but I don't understand why it didn't go up like a matchstick. It's got accelerant all over it. I need to look at this more closely.”

   
Eric walked around the piece of evidence as best he could, his curiosity peaking. “Yeah, I see that. I wonder why it didn't. What's it stuck on?”

   
She stretched her aching and sore muscles a little before replying in a slightly irritated tone. The evening was going to be a painful one. “If I knew that I wouldn't be asking for help, would I?”

   
She wasn't used to being called in on a Saturday and was beginning to feel the effects of the pounding she took just  few hours earlier. Her back ached and her left hip was beginning to seriously distract her with the growing pain. She knew her discomfort would only grow throughout the day. She just wanted to be able to concentrate on processing the evidence so she could forget about how much she hurt or how bad a beating she took. Right then it was all she could do to suppress sounds of pain. Keeping her mind busy always helped.

   
“Yeah, I hear you. I'm not happy giving my Saturday up, either,” Eric replied, misunderstanding her irritation. He returned to her side and wiggled the siding a bit. “Maybe if we pull toward you we can get it loose.”

   
Anything to get her mind off her aching body. Calleigh grabbed her end. “Alright, on three...”

   
They counted off and gave a hard pull. As predicted, the siding popped free, sending Eric careening into Calleigh, hips connecting with a jarring force, knocking her to the ground. As she landed on her  bruised hip, a soft, involuntary cry of pain escaped her lips before she could bite it back. She blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes. Calleigh just hoped that Eric hadn't heard and he hadn't seen.

   
He had. “Cal, are you okay?” He asked, giving her a hand up, worry for her gnawing at him. Were there a glimmer of tears in her eyes?

   
“Yeah, I'm fine; no worries,” she said quickly, brushing him and his concern for her off. She focused her attention on surveying the now completely visible evidence. She squat down next to it, suppressing a wince as her aching muscles protested loudly and the pain in her hip flared. She knew her left hip was going to be sporting a lovely, livid bruise later in the day and it didn't help that her trouser seam seemed to be irritating it every time she squat down. “Look at the pour pattern! Thanks for helping me get this out. I need to get it back to the lab.”

   
Eric eyed her carefully. She said she was fine, but she moved like she wasn't and he was afraid that he had hurt her when they crashed. He was sure he saw tears in her eyes just a few moments ago. It was hard to remember sometimes, because her presence was huge, but she was a lot smaller than she seemed. “Are you sure you're okay? I mean I-”

   
“I said I'm fine, Eric. I'm not made of candy glass and you didn't hit me all that hard. I've tackled suspects just like you have. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get this documented and you're in my light.” Calleigh picked up her camera and started snapping photos.

 

   
   
   
   
“Hey H, I need to talk to you about something,” Eric called as he jogged up to his boss in the main corridor of the Lab.

   
Horatio cocked his head to one side. “What's on your mind, Eric?”

   
“It's Calleigh; I'm worried about her. I think I might have accidentally hurt her. I was helping her move this piece of siding at the crime scene and it got stuck. When we got it free it caught us off guard and I slammed into her pretty hard,” Eric explained.

   
“How hard?”

   
Eric shook his head, feeling terribly guilty. His parents raised him to be a gentleman. Even when his sisters used to whack him for some transgression, he never once raised a hand to them. To think that he had hurt Calleigh was doing all sorts of traumatic things to him on the inside, even if it was only by accident. He was sure that she had tears in her eyes. He had hurt her and it was killing him. “Hard enough to knock her to the ground. Like I said, I think I might of hurt her. I asked if she was hurt, but she just brushed me off. I'd take it at face value, but she's not moving right.”

   
“I'll talk to her and see what I can find out,” Horatio said, concern for his ballistics expert growing. He knew that short of  a severe enough injury requiring a trip to the Emergency Room, she would brush off any concern and continue to suffer in silence. Case in point: The previous fall when she had been run off the road and her Hummer went into the canal nearly killing her. Rescue checked her out, declared her unharmed but sent her home as a precaution. She returned to the Lab to work, even though she had been hurting enough that she took a cab home that night because, though it was like pulling teeth for her to admit it, she was in too much pain to drive. He never reprimanded her, though. Her body did it for him.

 

   
   
x-x-x-x-x

 

   
   
Horatio stood in the doorway of the firing range and watched what he always thought of as poetry in motion: Calleigh firing a gun. He watched contentedly as she squeezed off a few rounds, her stance solid, her grip firm and her aim lethal. She put the weapon down, took off her goggles and ear protectors, picked up her clipboard and moved off to take measurements. That's when he saw what Eric was talking about. Her movements were slow and slightly stiff, her hand drifting behind her to rub small circles on her lower back; she was limping ever-so-slightly. She had also changed clothes since returning to the Lab. She now wore soft cotton jogging pants and long sleeved top. That, in itself was unusual. She never dressed casually while in the Lab. Calleigh was always a model of professionalism from her manner and attitude to her clothing choices.

   
Horatio watched her a good long time before coming to the same conclusion as Eric. Something was wrong. He cleared his throat.

   
Calleigh looked up from the gel block, giving him a bright smile. “Hey, Horatio; to what do I owe this honor?”

   
He smiled slightly. “No reason, really. I know it's too early to have any ballistics results yet.”

   
Calleigh straightened up gently and slowly, taking her spent bullets with her. “There has to be a reason since you're not in the habit of just dropping by.”

   
“You're right,” he admitted. “Eric told me about the accident at the crime scene. He's concerned that he hurt you.”

   
Calleigh rolled her eyes. “He didn't hit me all that hard; I was already off balance. I'm fine.”

   
He gave her his best interrogation look. “No, you're not. I didn't just get in here. I've been watching since you were test firing. You're hurting.”

   
“Listen Horatio, other than being hungry beyond hungry from missing lunch, I'm fine. There is nothing wrong with me and Eric didn't hurt me at all. Now, is there anything else?” Calleigh said sharply, irritation dripping from every word.

   
“I'm not finished.”

   
“I am,” Calleigh said, cutting him off, her tone bordering on insubordination. “If you won't believe me that's your business. My own welfare is mine. I'm fine. I have bullets to compare.”

   
As she moved past him, he deliberately bumped her hip, not hard, but he made solid contact. The sharp intake of breath and her stiffened posture told him what she wouldn't. She was in serious pain.

   
“If you're fine, then why did you have that reaction?” he persisted, following her into the lab area.

   
Calleigh put her comparison tray down on the table and sighed. She found his concern for her well-being touching, but she really didn't want it or need it right then. The fact that she was feeling very much like she was hit by a freight train was entirely her own doing and she would suffer the consequences all on her own. She didn't need his tea and sympathy. “Alright; fine. I fell and took a little tumble this morning and I'm a little sore; that's all. It's no big deal.”

   
Horatio frowned in concern. Clumsy was the last word that he'd ever use to describe Calleigh. He had never known her to fall, or fall hard enough to leave lasting aches. The terrible thought flashed across his mind that she sounded like so many abuse victims. He stepped closer to her. “Do you need someone to check you out?” he asked quietly.

   
“No, I've taken-had worse before. It's just a little bump and bruise. A good meal and a hot bath will go a long way,” Calleigh said, mentally cursing herself for nearly causing more questions to be asked. She really had no desire for anyone in the Lab to know what went on that morning. It was her own business.

   
Horatio regarded her carefully before speaking. She had nearly let something slip. “Well, since you missed lunch, why don't you go and get that good meal then? I'll run the comparison for you until you get back. Take your time, too. No inhaling your meal.”

   
   
 


	2. Chapter 2

 Chapter 2

 

   
   
   
   
   
Horatio waited until he knew Calleigh had left the building before embarking on his investigation. He stepped into her office and began his search, concern gnawing at him. Although, over the years, Calleigh had borne her fair share of the bumps and bruises and never complained, this time he found himself actually worried about her. Perhaps it was because he didn't know the particulars and she hadn't  been hurt in the line of duty or perhaps it was because she was so closed-mouthed about it, he just didn't know.

   
Walking to her office, he found himself hesitating at the door. It was like breaking that unspoken trust between them, but concern for her safety won out over his reservations on invading her sanctuary. He began to peruse the top of her desk. It was covered with the usual office clutter: pen holder, blotter, tissue box, half drunk bottle of water, in/out tray, calendar.....calendar. He began to flip the pages looking for clues. Some were blank and some weren't. He began reading some of the entries. Proficiency test 12:30.....Car payment due......lunch with Jake.....Horatio grimaced as a horrible thought occurred to him. Could it have been Jake?  What if Jake was mistreating Calleigh? There was so much about Berkley that they didn't know. He had a somewhat shady past. Undercover work was always iffy and could change a person in terrible ways. Could he have hurt her? God help him if he had. It could be why she was so secretive about it.

   
He flipped another page to the current date. Tamiami Park soccer field 9:30 vs. Red Dragons. He continued to flip a few more pages and began to notice a pattern. Every Saturday there was an entry with a park's name, a time and some sort of other name. A theory began to develop in Horatio's mind.

   
He flipped out his phone and dialed the next park district entry. “Good afternoon, I'd like to know who has the soccer field for next Saturday morning.....9:30?” He listened, his eyes widening slightly as he heard the answer. He thanked the person on the other end and smiled, feeling very much relieved. Calleigh's discomfort made perfect sense.

   
   
X-x-x-x-x-x-x

   
   
   
“H, did you get Cal to tell you anything?” Eric asked as he met up with Horatio at the end of the day. He hoped that she had confided in their boss. Eric knew the two of them had been close in the past. In all honesty, he wished that she had been comfortable enough to confide in him....but he'd been so outspoken about her relationship with Jake, so much so, that he didn't blame her.

   
“No, but I found out what's going on.” Horatio pushed the elevator button.

   
Eric's jaw tightened. “It's Berkeley, right? I'll kill him.”

   
So Eric had jumped to the same conclusion that he did. “No, it's not Berkeley. She, um, she's on a sporting team and had a game. I guess she's a little sore. I'm not surprised.”

   
“So what is it, softball?” Eric asked, a sense of relief washing over him.

   
“It's a bit rougher than that, I'm afraid,” Horatio replied, reluctant to share his secret knowledge. He liked knowing little things about his CSIs; it made them all the more important to him. Ryan built model railroads, Natalia sang in her church choir, Eric coached Little League and now Calleigh. Both men got on the elevator.

   
Eric rolled his eyes at his former brother-in-law. “Well, what is it, then? It can't be anything embarrassing. Calleigh's a good athlete. I don't know why she'd be so secretive about it.”

   
“I think she just wanted to keep it to herself, but I think I might go and watch next Saturday.”

 

   
   
   
x-x-x-x  
 

   
   
   
The Miami-Dade Crime Lab was like high school; Calleigh had even said it once, herself. Word spread from team member to team member all the way to Alexx in the morgue about Calleigh's weekend activities. It was the talk of the Lab besides the house fire turning up as an insurance scam, and not a very good one. The owner was being put away for insurance fraud and his wife and kids were currently living in an extended stay motel until the could locate an apartment to rent.

   
Despite justice being done, which was an everyday occurrence for them and something each and every team member prided themselves in being able to do, they were more excited about the prospect of being able to have a rare peek into one of their teammate's private lives.  No one knew what kind of sport she played because Horatio wouldn't talk, but all agreed that it might be great fun to show up, be her personal cheering section and surprise her.  

   
   
X-x-x-x-x  
 

   
   
The ball squirted from the scrum and was passed laterally to Calleigh who tucked it securely and took off like one of her own bullets. Cleats spewing clots of dirt, she sped toward the distant try line. She made it perhaps fifteen meters before her feet left the ground and her right hip connected with that very same ground. She hit with a hard thump and grunt as two of the opposing team landed on her. They peeled themselves off her, giving her a hand up.

   
“Thanks. Good play,” she said as she tossed the ball to a teammate and jogged back into position for the next play.

   
   
X-x-x-x-x-x

   
   
Horatio winced each and every time Calleigh got tackled, which, by virtue of her position on the team, was quite a bit. “Oh, that's gotta hurt,” he said as she was tackled again.

   
“I don't understand it, Horatio,” Alexx said from beside him. “Why this sport; why rugby? Why not something gentler like soccer or volleyball? She's getting killed out there.”

   
“Actually, Alexx, she's very good,” Horatio replied. “It's her job to get the ball down the pitch to the goal. She's like a running back in football. She's small and fast and you notice how long it takes for the opposing team to catch up with her each time.”

   
“But she's-”

   
“Cal is one tough lady, Alexx. I wouldn't worry,” Eric said. All her earlier pain made sense and Eric had to admit that he had a new, heightened respect for her abilities. Now if he could only let her know how he felt about her. He stood and whistled as Calleigh finally crossed the try line. “Atta girl!”

   
   
x-x-x-x-x-x-x

   
   
Once again Calleigh hit the dirt with a hard thud. Then the bodies piled on top of her. Slowly, one by one, they pulled themselves off, the last one helping her up. She thanked her and returned to her position for the next play.

   
This was repeated several more times. Ball, run, thud, smash, get up. On the fourth time it was different. The ball squirted from her hands on a particularly hard tackle and the wind was knocked out of her. She lay stunned for a moment before slowly getting up. The referee ran over and helped her to her feet. A cheer went up from the spectators. She waved, grinning.

   
Calleigh limped over to the bench and grabbed her water bottle, drinking greedily, before squirting a little around her head and neck to cool off. She bent and flexed her right knee, grabbing her ankle on the inside and pulling the leg up behind her in an arabesque-like pose, showing off her flexibility, and making sure it wasn't damaged. The stretch felt good and her knee made a satisfying crack.

   
“Are you okay, Duquesne?”

   
“Yeah, I'm fine. I just got the wind knocked out of me,” Calleigh said, looking up at her coach. “Send me back in?”

   
Coach Flanagan smiled at her little Louisiana spitfire. “Next play. Tear it up out there.”


	3. Chapter 3

 Chapter 3

 

   
   
   
   
   
“You think she's out?” Natalia asked, stealing more of Ryan's peanuts.

   
“Nope, she's going back in,” Ryan replied, his eyes never leaving the field. He was amazed by what he saw. Amazed and a little intimidated. Calleigh always exuded an air of genteel femininity and grace at the Lab.  He could still see that same grace as she ran the ball, but there was nothing genteel about her as she played. She reminded him of an NFL linebacker, she was so tough.

   
“Why doesn't that coach take her out? She was limping,” Alexx grumbled in frustration.

   
“She's sturdier than she looks, Alexx, and there's only five more minutes left to play,” Horatio said. He watched, appreciating her easy athletic ability, as the ball was passed sideways to Calleigh and she tore off at top speed toward the goal, blonde ponytail streaming out behind her. She was within mere meters of the goal line before being charged into by three of the opposing team. They went down with a crunch and a tangle of arms and legs. As they got up, the referee got her attention.

   
“Okay, Duquesne, you're done. Blood on the field,” she said.  
   
Calleigh looked down at her smarting knee to find a large gash. “Damn, okay, I'm gone.” She got on the sidelines and limped to the bench. She sat down heavily and bent over to inspect the damage, pulling blades of grass from the wound.

   
Alexx couldn't stand it any longer. Her friend was hurt and bleeding. It didn't matter that it was from a game. She made her way out of the stands and to Calleigh's bench. “Let me see that, Calleigh.”

   
Calleigh started. “Alexx, what are you doing here?”

   
“Watching you get smashed into the ground by women almost twice your size.” She knelt down and began to gently clean mud and grass from Calleigh's knee with a clean handkerchief. “Baby, why?”

   
“Because it's fun, Alexx,” Calleigh replied, wincing. “And I've played ever since I was in college. I also happen to be good at it.”

   
“Getting tackled into the dirt?”

 

“Running the ball,” Calleigh jerked her knee away from Alexx's gentle yet painful ministrations. “Ouch! You don't have to do that. We have medics.”

   
“Nice game, Duquesne,” the medic said as she knelt and inspected Calleigh's injury. She began to clean it, stilling Calleigh's small jerks as the antiseptic stung.

   
“Think I need stitches, doc?” Calleigh asked. She could feel Alexx's disapproving gaze still on her.

   
“You couldn't get that lucky,” the medic quipped back, grinning. “Quit squirming.”

   
“I'm not squirming.”

   
Alexx squat down. “Need any help? I'm Dr. Alexx Woods. I work with Calleigh.”

   
“The M.E.? Sure. I'm Crystal Peterson. Most days I'm an EMT with Fire Rescue. Out here I'm Doc.”

   
“I thought you looked familiar,” Alexx said. She looked up at Calleigh. “You are squirming.”

   
Together they cleaned and patched Calleigh up. The gash was long and deep but as long as she didn't overdo it, there was no need for a hospital trip, though Alexx tried her best to persuade Calleigh to go anyway. Three butterfly closures, a thick gauze pad and an Ace bandage later they had her nearly right as rain just as the game ended. The Shamrocks, Calleigh's team, drooped over to the sidelines, losing by five points.

   
Coach Flanagan pat her on the shoulder. “You gonna live?”

   
“Just a scrape,” Calleigh said, wincing as Alexx and Crystal helped her to her feet. “Pub as usual?”

   
“You know it. We missed you last week. Bring your cheering section,” the coach said, nodding in the direction of the team heading their way.

   
Calleigh followed the coach's gaze and saw the rest of the day shift approaching. She groaned. “Oh, great. I should have known it when Horatio dropped the subject last week. You can have no secrets in that Lab. Some days I hate working with CSIs.” She waved them over. “ “Hey, y'all are sure a surprise. Don't you people have something better to do on Saturday mornings?”

   
“No,” Horatio said, eying her bandaged knee with concern. “Are you going to be alright?”

   
“She'll be fine, Horatio, as long as she sits down,” Alexx said firmly.

   
Calleigh grabbed her gym bag and sat down.“Hey, I have to change shoes before we all go to the pub anyway.”

   
“Baby girl, you are not going to any pub. You are going to go home and rest that knee before all the work Crystal and I did is undone and you need stitches,” the M.E. Commanded.

   
“Dear God, Alexx, I'm starving. Do you know how much energy you burn up out there? See, shoes changed.” Calleigh stood back up and grabbed her equipment bag. “Come on; follow me you're invited.”

   
“Calleigh, you've been hurt,” Alexx said, again attempting to persuade her friend to rest.

   
“And a good meal and a cold Guinness will go a long way to making me feel better,” Calleigh said, smiling brightly. “Y'all can follow me over to Cliffs of Moher. That call out last Saturday made me miss my pub lunch. I'm not missing it again because of a little old scratch.”  
   
 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

   
   
   
   
The Cliffs of Moher was a cozy pub very reminiscent of the Irish countryside, looking very out of place in the bright sun and neon of Miami. However, it had it's share of regular customers, mostly northerners that retired to South Florida from New York, Boston and Chicago. Calleigh pulled into the small parking lot at the side of the pub, got out of her car with some difficulty because of the bandage and waited patiently for her surprise cheering section to show up.

   
“Hey, you coming?” Aiofe, one of Calleigh's rugby teammates called with a wave.

   
“Yeah,” Calleigh called back, “I'm just waiting for some friends. Order me a pint and I'll be in.” She leaned back against her car door and squinted down the street, finally spotting Horatio's car.

   
He pulled in next to her and got out. “How's your knee?” he asked softly.

   
“I'm fine. I'll be better after I eat,” she said with a grin as Eric and Alexx parked. “I'll be positively delirious after a shower.”

   
Horatio chuckled. “Yes, ma'am.”

   
“Calleigh, now you know I don't like telling you-” Alexx began, concern for her friend lacing her voice. It bothered her greatly to know that Calleigh was hurt and acting like it was nothing. She wanted to baby her and take care of her, even though Calleigh would never allow it.

   
“Alexx, please stop,” Calleigh said gently. “Yes, it hurts and yes, I promise I will rest it when I get home. You can call me every hour to make sure. You can even come over with a bowl of chicken soup. Just stop fussing at me. Part of playing a sport like rugby is being tough and smiling through the aches and pains. I broke my leg the second to the last game in my last year of college. I went to the campus clinic, got it taken care of and then went out with the team in the evening because you have to be tough, even though the pain kept me up most of the night. Please just play along, alright?”

   
“Honey, I don't understand it, but if it's part of the game and I want to make sure you go home, then I'll play,” Alexx conceded.

   
“Good. Thanks, Alexx.”

   
Once Ryan and Natalia pulled in, Calleigh lead the team into the pub, leaning slightly on Eric's arm for support as her knee throbbed with every step. Once inside, she stepped away from him and limped over to the tables that the Shamrocks inhabited, the rest of the team following. She took the proffered glass of cold, dark liquid, raising it in a toast. “Slainte!”

   
She took a long pull before introducing everyone. An extra table was pulled over and the CSIs were enveloped in the rugby teams' generous embrace.

   
Ryan leaned in to Calleigh. “What did you say?”

   
“When?”

   
“When you toasted.”

   
“Oh, it's an Irish toast meaning “To your health””, she said as the waitress came up. “Hey Shannon! I'll have the Irish steak, Duchess potatoes and whatever veggies you have on special today.”

   
Shannon grinned down at her. “Oh, your usual, then. Where were you last week?”

   
Calleigh shrugged. “Duty called; I got a call out on a massive house fire. That's how these guys found out about the team. No lunch and no hot bath make Calleigh very surly and sore. They're new to the pub so why don't you give them a little helping hand?”

   
Shannon helped out on the ordering, making suggestions and pointing out the really good dishes. She took their orders and left, only to return a few minutes later with the beverages. She placed a soft drink in front of Alexx, a glass of wine by Natalia, an amber colored Belgian ale for Eric and both Ryan and Horatio had what Calleigh was drinking; Guinness.

   
“Alexx told me you played in college,” Eric said. “You're really good. Why didn't you tell anyone? You know, if I had known that was why you were all achy last week I wouldn't have made such a fuss.”

   
Calleigh sighed and leaned over. “I didn't think anyone would be interested anyway. It's not like rugby is a popular sport.”

   
“Yeah, but you're tough as nails out there, Cal,” Natalia said, sipping her wine. “I would have never believed it if I didn't see it for myself.”

   
“Oh God, this IS mother's milk. I'd forgotten how good it is,” Ryan said with a sigh as he put his glass down. He sported a foam mustache which he quickly licked away. “I haven't had one of these since I left Boston.”

   
Calleigh laughed. “I notice you didn't use the napkin.”

   
“What, and commit an unforgivable sin in the eyes of Arthur Guinness? Not a chance,” Ryan replied with his own laugh.

   
“I'll have to admit, it's been a long time since I've had one of these, myself. I didn't even know you could get it in Miami,” Horatio said, licking away his own mustache.

   
“Well, maybe y'all could start coming to the matches and hang out with the team afterwards,” Calleigh said as their food began to be delivered.

   
No one touched their food until everyone had a plate in front of them. Still, no one moved. Coach Flanagan rose, clearing her throat. Heads bowed. “B'fei'di'r gur fior e' tu'sa bocht i mifortu'n, siobhir i beannacht, mall dean naimhaid, beo dean cara. Ach ta' soibhir no' bocht, beo no mall, ni'l aon chur amach agan air ach sonas o'n la' seo.  Ai'me'an”

   
Once the prayer had been said, everyone tore into their meal and the conversation returned to it's normal level.

   
“Calleigh, was that what I thought it was?” Horatio asked, surprised at the ravenous way his petite ballistics expert dug into her food.

   
“What do you mean?”

 

“Was that Gaelic?” he asked.

   
She nodded. “Most of the team is Irish ex-patriot or heritage. A chunk of them, like the coach, speak Irish fluently. It was more of a wish than prayer,” she replied and then tucked in again.

   
Horatio looked around at the faces of the women on the team. Many had that certain look about them that screamed CELT! out to him. He had more than his fair share in his family. His gaze fell back on Calleigh. Fair, almost translucent skin, dusted liberally with tiny freckles, the slender, yet surprisingly sturdy build, abundant blonde hair that had an almost imperceptible copper tinge in the darker winter months, and the dancing green eyes. He didn't know why he never saw that they shared a common ethnic ancestry before then. “What about you?” he asked after observing her for a while.

   
She looked up at him. “Me?”

   
“Any Celt in you?”

   
She rolled her eyes. “Full blood as best as I know. Duquesne is from Brittany where the region overlaps with Normandy in France so on Daddy's side I'm Breton. Grandma Duquesne was Scotch-Irish and grandma and grandpa O'Sullivan....you get the picture. It explains a lot of things; trust me.”

   
“Hey Duquesne, pass the brown bread, mas e do thoil e,” Aiofe called. “Go raibh maith ad.”

   
“Ta failte romhat,” Calleigh replied casually, finishing off her Guinness. She signaled Shannon for another.

   
“So you speak-”

   
Calleigh shook her head a smile playing over her lips. “To my gran's eternal shame, just a smattering. I really can't say more than a few words or polite phrases.”

   
Horatio returned that shy smile. “Me either, although not so polite. I could get my face slapped.”

 

   
   
x-x-x-x-x-x

 

   
   
   
The bilingual conversation continued and the drinks flowed well into the afternoon. Only by gentle and covert prodding did Alexx finally get Calleigh to break away from her teammates and leave the pub.  When Calleigh rose, she realized how stiff and sore she was and how badly her knee truly hurt. Over the hours spent in good company, conversation and food her muscles had had time to stiffen and her injury had time to swell. Plastering a pleasant smile on her face, she limped to the door, waving to her teammates and promising to see them the following Saturday. Once outside, she leaned heavily on Eric's arm, Alexx hovering at her side.

   
Eric handed Alexx his car keys. “I'm driving Calleigh home. Can you follow us in my car?”

   
“Eric, I can-”

   
“No, you can't. You can't really walk without leaning on me and I want Alexx to take a good look at your knee again,” he said, taking Calleigh's keys and opening her passenger door. He helped her inside. “No argument.”

   
“Alright,” she agreed. “In all honesty, with the way it's feeling right now, I wouldn't mind Alexx poking at it again.”

   
“That's the first sensible thing I've heard from you today, honey,” Alexx said. “I'll meet you at Calleigh's. I know the way.”

   
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 Gaelic to English translation
> 
>  
> 
> mas e do thoil e- please
> 
> Go raibh maith ad.- thank you
> 
> Ta failte romhat-you're welcome
> 
> B'fei'di'r gur fior e' tu'sa bocht i mifortu'n,   
> siobhir i beannacht,   
> mall dean naimhaid,   
> beo dean cara.   
> Ach ta' soibhir no' bocht,   
> beo no mall,   
> ni'l aon chur amach agan air ach sonas o'n la' seo.   
>  Ai'me'an-
> 
> May you be poor in misfortune,   
> Rich in blessings,  
> Slow to make enemies,  
> Quick to make friends,  
> But rich or poor,  
> Quick or slow,  
> May you know nothing but happiness from this day forward  
> Amen


	5. Chapter 5

 Chapter 5

 

   
   
   
   
   
The ride wasn't all that long and the traffic was in it's normal late afternoon lull before the mania of nighttime clubbing began. The seniors had already had their early bird specials and the club kids hadn't come out to play yet. Calleigh had leaned back against the soft upholstery and closed her eyes, dozing lightly, only the dull throbbing of her injury keeping her from falling completely asleep. She opened her eyes as the car stopped in her driveway. Alexx was already waiting by the front door.

   
Eric got out and jogged over to the passenger side where Calleigh was struggling to get out. “Whoa, wait for me,” he said, picking her up in his arms.

   
She squirmed. “Hey, put me down. I'm filthy and sweat stained. My uniform is gonna ruin your shirt!” she protested.

   
“I know how to wash clothes,” he replied, tightening his grip on her and carrying her to her door. Alexx took the keys, opening the door and stepping inside. Eric carried Calleigh to the bathroom and sat her down on the edge of the tub.

   
After gathering what supplies she needed from Calleigh's medicine cabinet, and clucking about its inadequacy,  Alexx squat down and removed the elastic bandage, revealing a bloodied gauze pad in need of changing. She removed that and frowned at the mess beneath it. She really needed stitches. “Eric, I need you to go to the store for me. I need more than Calleigh has if I want to do this properly.”

   
“Sorry, Alexx. If I knew you were coming, I'd have had a better kit,” Calleigh quipped then hissed as Alexx pulled the first butterfly closure away.

   
“I still think you should get a couple of stitches, but don't listen to me. I'm just a doctor,” Alexx grumbled then gave Eric a list of things she'd need.

   
“Alexx, can you do it here? I don't want to go....I mean after-”

   
“Baby, it's alright. Eric add some suturing supplies. I'll need some needles and suturing material. They'll know what to give you,” Alexx said, quieting Calleigh.

   
“Alexx, I'm sorry I'm giving you such a hard time but you know how much I hate hospitals, especially after last year. I just want to avoid being a patient right now at all costs,” Calleigh said softly, glad that Eric had gone for supplies.

   
Alexx looked up at her friend, full understanding dawning on her. Of course she wouldn't want to go to the Emergency Room....Not after Dupree. “Are you still having some side effects?” she asked gently.

   
Calleigh shook her head. “Not really; just a bad dream or two and the last time it rained my shoulder hurt like hell. Really, I'm sound mentally, emotionally and physically. It's just that it's coming up to a year now and-”

   
“I get it; no hospital.” Alexx stood. “Why don't I give you a hand getting yourself washed up and changed before Eric gets back? He has to go to a medical supply and it'll take him a while.”

   
Calleigh smiled at her, glad that she changed the subject. It didn't bother her to talk about it. It just wasn't one of her favorite subjects for conversation. “Alright, um, if you can help me to my bedroom I can-”

   
“You're going to stay put. Tell me what you want and where it is and I'll get it for you. You just get yourself ready for a bath,” Alexx said sternly with one eyebrow raised. “You could out stubborn a mule.”

   
Calleigh took the gentle reprimand with good grace and pulled her grimy rugby shirt over her head. She tossed it into the laundry basket. “Sorry. I just don't like being catered to.”

   
“I'm not catering. I don't want to have to make you go to the ER when you make it worse.” Alexx said from the bedroom. She rummaged until she found exactly what Calleigh asked for, returning to the bathroom to assist Calleigh in washing the ground in dirt and grime from her body.

   
Alexx was just toweling Calleigh's hair dry when Eric returned. “We're still in the bathroom,” she called over the sound of Calleigh's laugh.

   
Eric leaned in the doorway taking in the scene. Devoid of every vestige of make-up and hair damp and slightly wavy, Calleigh never looked more beautiful to him. He handed Alexx the supplies she asked for. “Well don't you clean up nicely.”

   
“Thank you. I try,” she replied with a saucy eyelash bat.

   
“Mm-hmn,”Alexx muttered, beginning to disinfect Calleigh's wound thoroughly. She quickly set the needed sutures in place, ignoring the slight whimpers of discomfort.

   
Eric sat down on the closed toilet seat and inspected the damage. It was red, deep and angry looking; swollen and painful. He didn't like the look of it at all. “Maybe Alexx is right, Cal. You should go to the Emergency Room.”

   
“No, Eric, I don't think that'll be necessary,”Alexx said smoothly, continuing her work with her skilled, gentle hands. “It looks worse than it really is. I think all she really needs to do is rest it and she'll be fine, won't you, baby?”

   
“That's what I've been saying all along,” Calleigh replied, grateful for Alexx's understanding. She winced as Alexx began to wrap the elastic bandage around her knee.

   
“Although,” Alexx said, “I'd prefer it if she wasn't by herself tonight. The wound is fresh and I'd feel better if one of us camped out on the couch just in case she needs anything. I really don't want her walking around too much. I don't want her to pop a stitch. You saw how it looked when I took the dressing off earlier.”

   
“I don't need a baby-sitter.”

   
“I'll stay,” Eric offered. “You go home to your family, Alexx. I was just going to watch University of Miami game anyway. I'd rather keep Calleigh company.”

   
“I don't get a say in this, do I?” Calleigh complained good naturedly. In truth, she wouldn't mind  Eric staying over. They had really lost touch after Eric had been shot and it might be a good opportunity for them to reconnect and regain their old closeness.

   
“No,” Alexx and Eric said simultaneously.

   
“I give,” Calleigh laughed.

   
“You, Cal, have a date with a soft couch cushion for the evening,” Eric said, lifting her in his arms. This time she didn't squirm or struggle as he carried her effortlessly to the living room, placing her gently on the couch, building a pillowed platform for her to rest her injured leg on. He let Alexx out after getting instructions on changing the dressing and to call her if anything didn't look right.

 

   
   
   
x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

   
   
   
   
They spent the evening in quiet conversation, getting reacquainted with each other for the first time in a long time. Eric hadn't realized that she and Jake had actually broken it off weeks ago and she admitted to him how shaken she had been when she thought she had killed that innocent woman in the sporting goods store.  She had wept slightly on his shoulder, but he hadn't realised how badly it had affected her. He should have known. Alexx had saved her sanity by discovering that she had already been dead when the car crashed through the front of the store. She told him of how, as she sat in the PD interrogation room, tempting it was to rip her shield from her waist and fling it at Stetler and walk out and how she stopped herself from doing precisely that at the memory of all those she had helped over the years and of future victims and their families that she hoped to help and bring closure to in the future. She was reminded, as she gazed out at the impassive faces passing by, of being told once that she was the last voice of the victim and to never forget that.

   
Eric began to talk about losing Marisol and how that really impacted him and then what a struggle it had been since being shot and that he was actually glad that Jake and Calleigh had broken up because Jake just gave him a bad feeling and that someone that's been undercover for so long could have negative consequences for anyone involved with him. Calleigh didn't need nor deserve that.

   
For the first time he talked to her about Rio and everything that he and Horatio had gone through; about Horatio finding Ray again only to witness his final moments. He talked about the terror that went through him when he knew her Hummer had careened into the canal and the real possibility that he could lose yet another person he loved to a violent end.

   
That was when Calleigh shifted on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder, intending on conveying comfort because speaking was impossible around the lump in her throat. She threaded one arm through his and drew it across herself. She felt him rest his cheek on her head and she leaned back into him. He drew her in more securely and she closed her eyes, content and comfortable in his embrace. She didn't know when she drifted off.

   
Eric looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms and counted himself fortunate for her presence in his life. He realized just how much he had missed her in the last months; remembered how close they had been before he had been shot and he turned inward on himself, shutting the world out. He ached to let her sleep in her arms all night, but knew that it was wiser to put her in her own bed. Her body hurt enough as it was. He didn't want to add a sore back to it as well. Gently, carefully, so as not to wake her, Eric shifted so he could lift her and carry her to her room. Alexx had already wisely turned down the bed for the night. He eased Calleigh into bed, sliding the light covers over her before placing a kiss on her cheek and returning to the couch for the night, content that he and Calleigh had rediscovered their old closeness and all the promise that just might bring.  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 


End file.
